Lost in Darkess
by xXx-Voldy's-Gone-Moldy-xXx
Summary: Hermione is captured in her own home by someone she never would have thought of. When she is finally saved by none other than her attacker and realizes it's Snape, does she even want to be helped by him? My first songfic, pleas review?  M for violence.
1. Lost in Darkness

Author's Note: This is my first songfic, and originally, I wouldn't ever write one, but I was feeling inspired. I want it to be Snape/Hermione, because I love that ship. Also, the song I've chosen, to me, talks about a girl being kidnapped or raped or something. So if I turned this into a story, then I would want them to eventually fall in love. Also, the words in italics and underlined aren't part of the song, they're onomotopoeas. :P If you don't know what that is, then search it. I used them for effects in the story, like the sound of creaking floors. I guess that just gave you the answer though... Still, go learn something, please. Alright now I'll stop.

So the summary: Hermione is at home while her parents are on an anniversary trip to Paris. It's in her sixth year I'll say, during the summer. And Snape is ordered by the Dark Lord to capture her and harm her. The song is Lost in Darkness, hence my title for this story, by Escape the Fate. You could listen to it while you read it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter world. I do not own this song, the lyrics purely belong to the band, Escape the Fate. Now, on with the story.

~HGxSS~

Lost in Darkness

_She hears a moan at the top of the stairs, but she don't move a thread, just minds her buisness _

_"I swear these walls have been talking to me," she says, "'Cause all I hear are the Devil's wishes."_

A creak, that's all it was. Sure, it was the wind. The weather lately hadn't been particularly nice out, anyway. Summer storms, they happened all the time. Three days her parents had been gone, and Hermione had managed perfectly fine on her own.

_Creak._

There it was again, the same noise she had heard only seconds before. It came from the floor above her, but she was sure it was the wind from the rain storm. She stayed where she was, in the kitchen, waiting for her tea to finish boiling. It was nothing, she was old enough to know that. Sitting down, she began to write back to Ron.

_Creak._

This time, it was accompanied by what she thought were light footsteps. She froze, quill poised over her parchment. He her head snappd up and toward her wand which lay on the counter across the room. Mind reeling, she thought about getting up and seizing her chance to find what was making the noises when suddenly, the lights when out. Her hand fell slack, and the only noise was the quill dropping to the floor.

_She feels his breathe down her skin and bones_.

There was someone behind her; the sound of his breath echoed through the blackness, and the click and thud of his boots on the hardwood floor. A chill slithered its way down her spine and she made to get up and move, but tripped over the chair. Hermione's arms flew out before her, searcing for the ground. They found it with a hard _smack_. Groaning, she pulled herself up and in her desperate attempt to crawl in the direction of her wand, rough hands grabbed her, tightly squeezing her sides hard anough to make her yelp.

_Crying out in pain_

_But no one knows how to find you _

_You're lost in darkness _

_Crying out in vain _

_But no one knows how to reach you You're lost in darkness again_

"Get up," he growled dangerously in her ear. That voice, oh where had she heard it before? It was painfully familiar. She squirmed in his grasp. "I said, get up!" Yelling now. Hermione did as she was commanded, blinking furiously in an attemtp to make out the scene before her. Were there others? Surely not, she had only heard one.

"Let go of me!" she gasped, only to had her mouth covered by a leather glove.

"Shut up, Granger," he hissed. Something jabbed her in the side and she recognized it to be a wand. Trying and failing to turn around to see who her attacker was, she tried to bite his hand. The man retaliated with a slap upside her head. Crying out in pain, she gave up and felt herself being forced through the darkness and out of her house.

*By her hair he drags her in the street He's free of other's eyes, there are no glances She cries for help with a gun to her cheek, But no one comes, nobody listens*

They were in Knockturn Alley, that much was sure. No one said anything as the man forced her through tenebrous alley ways and the black of night weighed in more than ever. The street lights were so dim; they casted an eerie glow over the man's features as she was forced up against a wall, her back connecting to it with a sharp crack.

"STOP!" she screamed. "Please stop it, you're hurting me!"

"Shut it," he growled, and she felt something sharp slice a line down the side of her cheek. She screamed as it started to sting and the warm, familiar feeling of sticky blood trickled down her neck. She tired to push him away with all her strength, but it was no use. Another gash, she felt, was cut into her arm.

"HELP!" she screamed, the word being cut off by her screams. Sickened by the smell and feel of blood, Hermione felt as though she were going to throw up. "Someone, PLEASE?"

"Shut it you whench," the man yelled. "No one's going to help a dirty Mudblood like you, not here." He pulled her roughly by the collar of her shirt and threw her to the ground. Her arms flailed in a attemped to break her fall. Screaming and sobbing from the pain and humiliation, Hermione frantically crawled around, only to find she was too weak from her new wounds to move. She collapsed onto her stomach and then felt herself being rolling over. Groaning, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"_Sectumsempra_," the man whispered. Agonizing and searing pains stabbed her in the chest, and she felt as though someone was ripping themselves from within her. Screaming and crying for help, she writhed in pain and kicked her legs out in front of her.

_Her blood runs red all through the street_.

Desperation. That's the only word he could use to describe the helpless, breathy gasps that escaped her mouth, the flailing of her arms and legs. The smell of blood was thick in the air, like rust and salt. Of course, he hadn't wanted to do this to her. Not her, especially her. So innocent, so kind and warm. So *intelligent*. She should have known better than to leave her wand unattended in times like these. She was supposed to be smart, was she not?

_Crying out in pain _

_But no one knows how to find you _

_You're lost in darkness _

_Crying out in vain But no one knows how to reach you _

_You're lost in darkness _

_You're lost in darkness again_

"Please," she gapsed, her body flexing and unflexing in weird, contorted motions. For a moment, he watched in horror, his black eyes wide, as she ceased to move and lay still, her breathing becoming slow and coming out in uneven, retched puffs. Oh the guilt he would suffer through that night, knowing he had caused such a beautiful, youthful witch such pain. It had been his duty to protect her - and her friends - but he had been ordered by the Dark Lord himself. It was this, or die.

He bent down and was about to siphon all the blood and end her suffering. It was such a simple curse, he thought. Two words, and her pain would be over.

_I can't find my inspiration _

_I can't find my inspiration _

_I can't find my inspiration _

_I can't find my inspiration._

He gave way and muttered the counter-curse to his own spell. She gasped and sobbed, inhaling sharply and moaning in pain. Her body constricted and convulsions were that of a seizure.

"Stop - stop it," she gasped, her eyes opening, wide and frenzied. The moon shone down on her; she was so pale. She let her eyes roll into the back of her head and she whimpered quietly he started working on her, first cleaning up the blood, and then healing her wounds.

_Crying out in pain _

_But no one knows how to find you _

_You're lost in darkness _

_Crying out in vain _

_But no one knows how to reach you _

_You're lost in darkness_

The pain faded, and she felt as though she were floating. Was she dying? Her eyes refused to open, and the stinging pain seemed to turn into that of cool air drifting over her wounds. Her gasps subsided, and she felt somebody pick her up. Someone had come - someone had come to save her! She felt her body go limp, her head hanging loosely over the stranger's arms, a heavy feeling creeping into her arms.

"Help me," she whispered, the almost silents words hurting her throat. She forced her eyes open, and looked up at the man carrying her. The swishing of his cloak, soaked at the bottom from the wet streets and rain. And then to the pale colour of his face, the long, hooked nose, and the black boundless eyes that mirrored the murk of the Black Lake, swimming with danger. Her own, chocolate brown eyes widened and she began screaming and thrashing in his arms. This man, he wouldn't help her. This man, was who had hurt her in the first place.

Snape.

_Crying out again _

_(No one knows how to find you)_

_You're lost in darkness _

_Crying out in vain _

_(No one knows how to reach you)_

_You're lost in darkness You're lost in darkness again_

~HGxSS~

So thanks for reading. I know it wasn't the best, and I didn't want it to be anymore gory than that, because I don't like that. I hope you guys did though. Also, in the line "she cries for help with a gun to her cheek*, just pretend it said "wand". :) Thanks for reading, review?


	2. Confined

Alright, so I said I wouldn't turn this songfic into an actual story, but I was bored so I decided to. Also, I'm really stumped for my other stories, so yes. Thank you to "kimberly302" for reviewing. Honestly, I didn't think it was review-worthy, but I hope it gets there! Alright, so now onto evil and not-so evil Snape. ;)

Chapter Two

Confined

Hermione awoke to the unfamiliar sound of silence. There was none of the chirping of birds she knew only too well, or the sound of her mother and father talking quietly on the floor below her. She opened her eyes and looked around a strange room; it was exquisitely decorated with a dark wooden wardrobe in the corner of it, a large window to the right with black curtains drawn shut, leaving no room for the sun to shine through. Confused and frightened, Hermione pulled her arms from within the silky sheets she was tucked beneath and was met with a burning sensation in all of her limbs, and her head pounded painfully with every small move she made. She turned her head to the side and a pained hiss slipped through her lips as she reached a hand to rub the spot that felt stiff, shocked when she felt more pain. What had happened to her? More importantly, where was she? _You're at home, Hermione_, a voice said in her head.

_No I'm not, this isn't my bedroom_, replied the more stubborn part of her.

_Then go figure out where you are_, the other voice demanded. In any other circumstance, she would have argued with herself, but she felt frightened; something told her she was not safe here, however comfortable the bed she lay in was. So, gritting her teeth, she hoisted herself into a sitting position, forcing herself to ignore the pain that coursed through her veins, and made herself deal with the pounding within her skull. It took three breaths to steady herself, but even that caused her vision to swim in front of her. She focused on the hardwood floor, which duplicated itself and then faded back to one numerous times. Hermione heaved a great breath and held it in as she stood despite her body's protests. She felt herself teeter on the stop and slammed her hand against the wall. She immediately cried out in pain and looked over, finding it to be wrapped in a white cloth. Even if she didn't remember how, she knew she must have sprained it. A sudden image of her falling down entered her mind and caused her stomach to churn. _What was wrong with her_? She stood, hunched over with her hand still against the wall and panting. So little done with such exertion! She found herself feeling exhausted when she stood another few steps. Squinting through the dark room, Hermione waved her arms about to try and find the door. She caught the doorknob and twisted it, wrenching the door open, currently too preoccupied with pain to be aware of the fear surging through her body, her heart beating at an abnormally fast pace, threatening to burst through her ribs and free itself from the anticipation of what lay beyond the threshold.

The hallway that greeted her was dimly lit, a few candlelit chandeliers hanging on the walls, flames flickering on each white candle, overthrowing everything into a shadow. The hallway was long, seeming to get narrower the more Hermione looked down it. She took a step and the long, emerald green throw rug that stretched the length of the hall turned into waves.

_It's okay, you're just a bit woozy. You've just woken up._

Putting her faith in the voice inside her head, she carried on slowly, occasionally stopping to take a few breaths and let her mind even out the scene before her. What seemed like hours later, she found herself at the top of a great, spiralling staircase. She dragged her hand down the smooth, polished railing as she slowly descended the stairs into a room that smelled so heavily of books and quills mixed in with the rich scent of red wine. The aroma weighing down on her and tightening her chest with each breath she took was enough to make Hermione think she would pass out. She staggered over to the nearest armchair that was sitting by a single end table, shelves full of books upon books lining the walls. If her mind had been in the right place, she would have grabbed one as soon as she looked at it. But the air this strange house had to it told her she needed to find her way out and soon. Her eyes strained in the darkness of the room and she found a door. It was plain black, matching the obvious obscure theme of the place; she looked around and saw the walls were coated in a dark paint as well, accented by a deep green. Feeling a bit stronger now that she had been on her feet for a few minutes, Hermione advanced toward the door and slowly opened it, revealing a pitch black office. Curious, she stepped inside and let her eyes become accustomed to the darkness, able to make out the shadows of a desk and a large candle light in the corner of it. She was certain that the dark outline behind the desk was another draped window. She was reminded of the dungeons at Hogwarts; just like them, the house was cold and drafty, the shadows looming in ominous positions, looking as though they would attack if you stepped too close. However, at Hogwarts, she felt safe even in the confines of those dank chambers. Here, she felt on edge, like someone would suddenly come out of nowhere-

"Miss Granger," a voice said from out of the shadows. Hermione jumped at the sound of her name and turned around, seeing nothing but the outline of a tall, slim man before her. She stayed quiet and still, holding her breath as though that would hide her better than anything. "I see you're awake."

_Don't answer him! Hold your tongue, Hermione. Don't say a word_! The voice inside her head made her feel sick again and she gripped the edge of the desk for support, knocking over the candle. She bit down on her lip hard when it landed on the floor with a loud _crash_. He, whoever _He_ was, would know she was there now.

"Tut, tut, knocking over my things now?" the voice hissed and she felt her stomach flip at the familiarity of it. Still, she stayed quiet and instinctively reached for her wand to find it wasn't there. Panic flooded her, when suddenly the memory of the previous night came rushing back to her.

_Someone had their hands over her mouth, muffling her screams as they dragged her into an alley way. She squirmed in their grasp, fighting her way back to her house. She had to get out of there_!

_Deep, stinging gashes appeared over her skin and she screamed, her head spinning and her vision going fuzzy._

_Someone knelt over her, healing her as she faded in and out of conscientiousness. They took away her pain, replacing it with a cooling feeling._

_She was in someone's arms now, her body limp. She caught a look at his face before everything went black. _

"No." Hermione spoke, her voice hoarse and raspy as she came to the realization that the man who stood before her was no help to her. "No, it's you!" She tried to back up again but found her back pressed up against the desk enough already.

"Of course it is me, foolish girl." Snape spoke in a low, dangerous voice but Hermione could hear his sneer in his voice. Hermione searched desperately for her wand, praying to whoever was above that she did in fact have it with her and she hadn't left it in her kitchen.

"Professor, please!" she pleaded, afraid he'd only start what he did to her last night over again. "I haven't a wand! You – you can't attack me!" Snape chuckled, a deep menacing sound coming from deep within his throat.

"I believe you are mistaken, Miss Granger. You see, as you just said, I am your professor, therefore I have authority over you. I can do whatever I please." His voice was cold, sending a shiver rippling through Hermione. She opened her mouth to say something, but he continued in his same dangerous drawl. "However, I have no wish to attack you, Miss Granger." Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in.

"S-sir?" She felt terribly confused and shrieked when his hand suddenly grabbed hers. "Don't touch me!"

"Silly girl," spat Snape. "Do not speak unless you are spoken to!" She nodded silently, and he suddenly pulled her to him and grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger, causing her to whimper. "Last night's actions were based purely around the Dark Lord's orders, Miss Granger." Her eyes widened in shock.

"You!" she screamed. "You are a Death Eater! Harry was right! And all this time, you've been at the Order meetings!" His grip on her jawline tightened.

"Hold your tongue!" he yelled. "As I said before, I acted on the Dark Lord's actions, Miss Granger. If you wish, I can easily give you up to him, however, it is beyond my knowledge why he would want you." Hermione felt a sting at his words, even though it was better if Voldemort didn't want her.

"Your only other option is to stay here," Snape continued, dropping her to the floor. Hermione landed with a grunt and forced herself to stand up just as Snape opened the door to large reading room she had found before. He ushered her out and followed, slamming the door loudly behind them. _Can't he ever just shut them quietly_, thought Hermione, jumping at the sound. She turned around and was met with the clear view of her Potions professor: he stood leaning against the door, arms and legs crossed, the black cloak he wore falling to the floor, his long black hair shielding his eyes from view, but Hermione knew they were staring her down. She shuddered and suddenly felt very intimidated by him. It was like a predator watching its prey, planning the best way to catch it. As if trying to hide herself from view, she brought her own arms in front of her, her not so sore hand holding her bad arm. She saw the corner of his mouth turn upwards in a smirk, and her heart rate increased.

"Sir," she started and then clamped her mouth shut. Snape stayed quiet, his smirk staying in place.

"Smart girl, you are," he said in a low voice. "You may speak." Hermione gulped. How did he stay so still like that?

"Professor, I was just – I was just wondering why ... why You-Know-Who ordered the a-attack on me?" She looked down at her feet and drew a circle with her socked toe, looking away from his eyes – or rather, his smirk.

"He … believes you would have information on Potter," Snape said slowly. "Which, of course, you do. Therefore, he thought if I were to torture you into giving it to me, his plan to, forgive me, kill the boy would go … better." Hermione stared at him, clearly outraged.

"You didn't ask me any questions. Sir?"

"I am aware of that, Miss Granger," replied Snape, not standing up straight, folding his hands behind his back. "For which you should be thankful for," he added in a sneer. Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"Of course, thank you, sir, for ripping apart my chest before healing me! It improved my life so," she said, the sarcasm in her voice drenching her words. Snape only smirked at her now, and stepped to sit down in one of the green arm chairs and went on as if Hermione had not uttered a word.

"The Dark Lord is under the impression that Potter will be moved to a safe house on the thirty-first of July-"

"Which he will be!" Hermione shouted, but went silent when Snape held up a hand.

"Miss Granger, are you too dim to not know when someone is speaking, or have you no manners?" Hermione looked down once more and nodded in apology. Snape continued, "When he no longer has The Trace on him. Which house, however, he does not know. I simply told him you had no idea. However, if he found that I had healed you and brought you here instead of leaving you to die in the streets, he would torture you into death, but not before getting all information on Potter."

Hermione stayed silent for several moments before looking up to Snape. "Thank you, sir," she whispered, rubbing her sprained wrist.

"Yes, it's all very nice," he sneered, crossing his legs and resting his chin upon his hand. He set his cold stare on Hermione, letting his eyes roam over her from bottom to top. Hermione looked down and went bright red, realizing she was only wearing a pair of short pyjama shorts and a rather revealing tank top. Of course, it had been late when he had captured her. She supposed he had wished she would have been sleeping.

"Sir!" she exclaimed, and a rather wickedly amused smirk crossed his face. Hermione glared at him. "Sir, my – my clothes are all at home…."

"The wardrobe in the bedroom you were in is charmed to suit your needs." Hermione wondered for a moment if the pun in his words had been intended, or if it was just her silly mind at work. Without another word, she turned and walked as fast as her sore legs would carry her to the room she had woken up in. There she opened the large wardrobe, and peered into it. It was completely empty, and for a moment she considered asking Snape how it worked, when her clothes appeared, along with her wand. She picked it up gleefully before setting it on the desk beside the wardrobe. She chose a warm gray sweater with a pair of simple blue jeans and clean socks. She dressed herself and walked back downstairs, wanting to ask Snape if there was a potion he could give her for the head ache that had now turned into a migraine, throbbing painfully around her left eye. He was no longer in the reading room, however, and Hermione wasn't sure where she would find him in this house. Sighing, she sat down in the arm chair he had previously sat in, and looked around at all the books he had. It was this room in particular that made her feel more comfortable, and for some reason, she found herself wishing he was there with her. The fact that he had saved her and Harry's life – once again – made her feel that she wasn't entirely in danger, however awkward it was to be in her professor's house. She thought back to his story and wondered for a moment if it might have been a lie, something to gain her trust and finally when she was all into it, give her up to Voldemort. She shuddered at the thought and pushed it away from her mind. Her eyes wandered over to the books lining the wall again and she got up, deciding it was best to keep her mind busy. She dragged her finger along the dusty bindings, skimming the titles for something that popped out at her. She became frustrated – they were all about potions or Dark Magic, none of which she wanted to read about, but decided it may have to do if were to survive here. She picked a particularly thick tome on a higher shelf and nearly toppled over when it finally sprung free from the restrictions of the other books. She caught her balance on Snape's desk, her hand hitting a flask of purple liquid and knocking it to the floor, bringing a few quills with it. She gasped and dropped the book, the wind it created sending papers flying all over the place. Hermione stared at the mess she had created in horror. It was the second thing she had knocked over in one day in _Professor Snape's house_. If Voldemort didn't get to her first, Snape would surely kill her.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Hermione scolded herself and bent down, reaching for her wand and groaning out loud when she found that she left it upstairs on her bed. She really needed to stop doing that. She considered running up there quickly to grab it, but the throbbing in her head reminded her that her strength wasn't what it usually was and so she sat on the soft rug, frowning at the purple potion. No ideas came to her, and when she looked around for a cloth or a source to soak up the liquid and saw none, heart sunk horribly and she was overcome with a fear that Snape would torture her in his own ways as a form of punishment.

"Think," she told herself and looked on his desk. She stood up and quietly opened the drawers, looking for something to clean up the mess with, when suddenly a pale, long-fingered hand rested over hers. Gasping, Hermione turned and looked back to see Snape standing behind her, looking down at her with one eyebrow raised. She hadn't even heard him come in!

"Miss Granger," he said. His voice was slow and calm – the tone he used when she answered too many questions in class, or someone did something to make him mad. It was controlled, quiet and threatening. "Are you … looking for something?" He added pressure to her hand – her sore hand – and she winced in pain.

"S-sir, I … well, yes…." She bit her lip and glanced over to the purple potion pooled beside his desk. His black, stony eyes followed her gaze and widened for a fraction of a second before turning back to her. They questioned her and at the same time, dared her to speak.

"Ex…plain," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Hermione swallowed hard, telling herself she was a Gryffindor, and this was definitely the least of her worries. The most he would surely do was yell at her and lecture her.

"I - I didn't know where you were, sir, so I thought it was best for me to just stay in here," she started, wanting to move but he stayed with his hand clasped over hers, trapping her. "I grabbed a book, and I suppose it was too high up for me to grab without difficulty, and I … sort of tripped and knocked over … your potion…." There was a silence before Snape whispered in her ear, his voice deadly.

"I would be careful next time, Miss Granger, some potions are lethal and-" here he wiped some from finger that she had not noticed, "-and harmful to skin. Consider this a lesson to you. Next time, stay out of other's things. Now, clean it up." Hermione shivered against his body and he finally moved away, conjuring some paper towels for her to use before sweeping from the room, his black cloak billowing behind him.

~SSHG~

If it wasn't apparent already, Snape seemed to be very concentrated in whatever he was doing. He made sure Hermione was in the same room as him, and as a form of her punishment for spilling the potion, he wasn't letting her do anything. They were in the office where Snape had first found her trying to become invisible. While he worked at his desk on what she assumed were things for school, she lounged about on a sofa she hadn't noticed before. It was terribly comfortable, and she had grown weary from her pain. She forced her eyes to stay open as she stared up at the high ceiling. It was silent except for the soft scratching of her professor's quill, which didn't help her fatigue. It was very calming to her, and she struggled to keep her heavy eyes from sliding closed.

"Professor!" she suddenly yelled, and his writing stopped and she heard his quill drop. For a moment, she thought she might have frightened the man. She glanced over and stared at his back and the stillness of his figure.

"Miss Granger," he replied coolly, slowly turning around to face her, fixing her with a glare that drained all confidence from her. "Is there a reason for your yelling?"

"No, sir," said Hermione quietly. "I hadn't meant to yell, sir." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well then, I expect you to take more care next time, it does not do well for a student to yell at her professor – especially, Miss Granger, when he is in the middle of planning first classes." Hermione bit her lip and nodded as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Sir, if – if you would allow me to read…. Or, perhaps, I could lend a hand…." Snape stared at her, his coal-like eyes boring into her own. Hermione stared back at him, forbidding herself to let him get to her. Finally, his lips curled into his infamous smirk.

"Tell me, _student_, why I would let you help plan my classes? So you can make it easier for your little friends in the years below you? I'm not a fool." His words cut into her like a piece of jagged ice.

"Sir, I never – that never even cross my mind…. Please sir, I'm terribly bored."

"Are you always _bored_, Miss Granger, or do you take pleasure in annoying others with your silly little complaints? Perhaps next time you are _bored_, you won't go into other people's things! Now, silence!" Snape turned around started writing at a faster pace. Hermione smirked to herself, knowing she had provoked him and suddenly got an idea. If he had fun punishing her, then she would make a game of it too. Laying back down, Hermione heaved a great sigh and blew it out, making a loud sound with her lips that reminded her of a horse. She peeked over the arm of the couch and saw his quill stop moving in what she hoped was agitation. Snape sat still a while before writing again, when Hermione sighed once more, to which Snape ignored. Sighing again, Hermione got a better idea and started to hum a soft tune to herself. She noticed right away the effect it had on him: she watched with great satisfaction when his knuckles went white as he gripped his quill tighter, the scratching furious now. Hermione burst out laughing, ignoring the pain it inflicted upon her sore ribs and abdomen. This seemed to get to Snape more than anything as he stood and whipped around. Hermione didn't see the deadly glare she received but certainly felt the iron-like grip on her arms as she was pulled up and pinned up against the wall. Her laughs turned into groans of pain.

"I – said – _silence_," Snape growled in her ear, gripping her arm tighter. She yelped as she felt his nails dig into her skin and squirmed, kicking her feet which her above the floor.

"Let me go," she pleaded, grabbing at his own arms now as the same terror she felt last night crept into her veins again.

"Do you understand the definition of the word 'silence', Miss Granger?" His voice was low and terrifying again. Hermione adverted his eyes as she nodded vigorously. It didn't seem to be enough. "I asked you a question, stupid girl!"

"Yes!" she sobbed, kicked her legs against the wall. She let out a scream as Snape closed the space between them to stop her, his weight crushing her chest.

"Answer me, you insolent witch!"

"I – I just did!"

"_What does it mean, Miss Granger_?" Snape forced her to look him in the eye, his face livid.

"No – no talking!" she gasped through her tears.

"Or?" His voice was calm now, laced with poison.

"Or humming or laughing!" she yelled, trying to push him away with her hands, moaning when she felt the sprained one snap. It throbbed and an excruciating burning slid its way up her arm.

"And what was it you were doing, intelligent girl?" She shivered at his whisper, leaning her head back as she gritted her teeth against the pain.

"I was defying you!" She squirmed and cried out when her hand shot more pain up her arm. "Sir, I'm sorry! Please – please let me go! My hand…."

"Is your hand hurt, Miss Granger?" asked Snape, his voice mocking her. She didn't care; she nodded and let more tears slip through her closed lids. Snape suddenly let her drop to the floor and grabbed the hand that was already hurt more.

"Ouch!" screamed Hermione, trying to pull it free but was pulled through the office door and down a long hallway that led off the reading room. Snape stayed silent and ruthless as he pulled her through. Various paintings on the wall turned to look at Hermione, one woman in particular. She had long, flowing black hair with piercing black eyes that reminded Hermione of Snape. However, they were not empty or lugubrious like his own; they held a twinkle and she offered a small smile to Hermione, one which at the moment, Hermione was unable to return.

"Sit down," Snape instructed once they were in another room and pointed to a table in the middle of it. He let go of her hand and roughly pushed her toward it. Hermione stumbled toward it before hopping onto it, holding her hand to her chest as she looked around. It looked like a small version of Snape's Potions classroom, only without the desks and chalkboards. There were potions of all different colours in differently shaped and sized flasks all organized along the counters, some emitting fowl smells and others puffing out strangely tinted smoke or steam.

Hermione followed Snape with her eyes as he busied himself at one of the counters, his arms moving quickly and carefully. Finally he turned back around and walked over to her with the same white, gauzy cloth that was wrapped around her wrist in one of his hands, a potion in the other. Hermione swallowed nervously and eyed the liquid that swished around as he walked closer to her. His eyes were still blazing – he wouldn't be so angry with her that he'd poison her, would he? _Of course not, Hermione, you're being stupid_, she thought to herself. Snape stopped and loomed over her.

"Hold out your hand," he demanded, setting the potion down beside her. "And don't knock that over." Hermione glared at him and hesitated before giving her hand to him. She expected him to be rough and flinched when his cold hands touched hers, but his touch was gentle and light as he unwrapped the bandage from her. Hermione let out a gasp when she saw a large scratch across the back of her hand. Snape ignored her and carried on. He waved his wand to alleviate some of the stinging of the cut and disposed of the old bandage before wrapping the new one around her wrist and hand. "Too tight?" he muttered when hearing Hermione's sharp intake of breath. She shrugged, trying to be strong and brace the pain, but her face showed different. Snape smirked and unwrapped it and re-wrapped it again, this time making sure it was a little looser. Hermione stared at him while he worked, utterly perplexed by his change in behaviour. Not five minutes earlier had he slammed her against a wall violently. Now, he was taking care of the injury he had inflicted. It was either because he felt bad (which Hermione highly doubted) or he had a conflicting personality disorder….

"Thank you, sir," she said, letting her hand fall into her lap. Snape said nothing. He handed her the potion with a raised eyebrow.

"Drink it," he ordered. Hermione looked at the potion suspiciously and then back at him.

"What is it?

"A pain-relieving Potion, Miss Granger," he said impatiently, as if that was the hundredth time she had ask him. Hermione nodded slowly and took the flask from his hand and raised it to her lips. She sniffed it carefully and coughed at the stench. Snape sighed and placed a hand beside her as a warning. Or, that's what Hermione perceived it to be. Quickly, she drank the potion and finished with a gasp for air, her head swimming momentarily as a sick feeling rose in the pit of her stomach. Snape seemed to be watching her with amusement. She shuddered from the sour taste.

"That should help with any pain for now, Miss Granger. If, however, you start to feel sick ... Well, I suppose that would be a problem, indeed." He smirked at her as he took the flask and levitated it to the sink with his wand and charmed it to clean itself. Hermione glared at him. He was clearly enjoying the nauseated look on her face with some sick amusement.

"Is that normal, sir?" she muttered, keeping her eyes on his face. It was the only thing in the room that seemed to stay as one thing.

"Is what normal, Miss Granger?" he asked, a chuckle following his words.

"Feeling dizzy?"

"Well, no, Miss Granger, I'd say not in everyday life. After taking a potion like that, then yes." _Stop mocking me, you've done enough_. Hermione wished she could say it out loud, but she knew she'd only be punished again. She stayed quiet as she slipped off the table, grabbing the edge for support. Snape watched her carefully, before turning and walking toward the door. He held it open for her as she steadily walked out and started down the hall, feeling awkward with him behind her. She could feel his eyes on her.

Hermione passed the portrait of the lady again and turned to look at it. "Is that your mother, Professor?" she asked, causing him to stop abruptly and sneer.

"Yes," he muttered, now standing beside her. Hermione looked at the picture in awe as the woman gave her another friendly smile.

"She's beautiful," she whispered, wondering how such a lovely-looking woman was a mother to such a miserable man.

"Yes, of course," Snape muttered and gave her a gentle push. "Tippy should have dinner ready, so let's carry on, shall we?"

"Tippy?" Hermione asked, quickly walking forward. She had no idea which way his dining room was.

"My House Elf, Miss Granger," replied Snape slipping past her to lead her into another finely decorated room with a large, long table set up in the middle. It was a dark oak wood with eight tall chairs on both side, and two grand ones at each end.

"Oh," said Hermione, staring at the two plates that sat at either end. Snape crossed to the other one and sat down. Hermione quickly did the same but did not touch her food as Snape started eating his. She watched him for a moment, noticing he had quite the manners. He took a sip from his goblet and looked at her.

"Eat, Miss Granger," he said. Hermione picked up her fork and poked at her food, feeling his eyes on her once more. She looked up and nearly jumped at the intense look he was giving her. It was like he was trying to force her into it. Again, she wondered about the poison but quickly pushed the thought away.

"Sir, I'm not so hungry…."

"Eat your dinner," he said in a firmer tone. "It will … help." _Yes, like poisoning me would help me_, Hermione thought and instantly wished she hadn't. Snape seemed to give her a strange look and placed his fork down.

"I most certainly have not poisoned your food, Miss Granger." Hermione jumped and let out a squeak, remembering that he was a skilled wizard in the power of Legilimency. "Believe me, if I had any wish to kill you … I would have done it by now." Hermione felt herself go pale and swallowed hard as a smirk formed over his lips again.

"Sir, I didn't think you would…."

"Yes you did. Now, eat, Miss Granger. There are no snacks in this house." Hermione nodded slowly and silently tasted some of her food. The piece of roast beef nearly melted on her tongue, making her mouth water it was so delicious. Her eyes popped in shock and wondered if this Tippy elf could give the Elves at Hogwarts a run for its money. She heard Snape chuckle and begin eating himself. She had a sudden urge to shovel the food into her mouth as her stomach gave a low growl, but resisted it. That would have been terribly rude and embarrassing.

They ate their dinner in complete silence, Hermione purposely taking the time to chew her food well and finally finished her goblet of pumpkin juice. She wondered if Snape drank it, or if his would be full of something more extravagant like a red wine. She sat and looked at Snape who was now reading the _Daily Prophet_.

"Sir?" she said timidly. He looked at her over his paper. "May I be excused?"

"Where to, Miss?"

"I'm rather tired…. I would like to sleep." Snape raised his chin and looked at her and merely nodded.

"Do you wish to have a Dreamless Sleep Potion, Miss Granger, or will you be fine?" Hermione stood up and gently pushed her chair in as a little elf scurried by and took her plate. Hermione smiled gently and thanked the elf, who looked shocked and terrified for a moment before nodding and bowing deeply to her. Snape rolled his eyes at her and cleared his throat, demanding an answer.

"Thank you, sir, but I'm sure I'll be alright. Those can be addicting … I don't like using them."

"Very well, then. Good night, Miss Granger." Hermione offered him a smile but when it wasn't returned (_why did I even try_? she thought), it felt awkward and faded from her face,

"Good night, Professor." She turned then and hurried from the room and to the one she was going to have to call hers for the time being. As she dressed for bed, she wondered what her parents were doing in Paris right now. She wondered if they would watch the sunset together from on top of the Eiffel Tower where her mother had wanted to eat dinner. Hermione sighed and lay in the bed, pulling the thick, silky sheets around her shoulders and laying on her side. She stared at a shadow on her wall for a while and wondered what her parents would do when they came home and she wasn't there. It was summer … she should have been home, safe and sound in her own bed in her own house. She closed her eyes and felt tears run down her face. She was obviously safer here, but she wasn't comfortable being alone with her Potions Professor for so long. Sniffling, she forced herself into sleep and thought of a few questions she would have to ask Snape in the morning, the most important one being what was going to happen to her parents. If Voldemort was after her, then he would surely find her house. She wouldn't be there, but her parents would.

~SSHG~

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I realize this chapter didn't have much point, but I was bored and at a loss for my other ones, so I thought I'd just write it :) Review? It would really be appreciated! Thank you :) XOXO.


	3. Black Abyss

Author's Note: Alright, I always like to thank my readers and reviewers! It means a lot to me when you guys give me feedback! So, I'm giving a shout out to middlekertz, severusgrissom, and Kwai Ax'nav! Kwai Ax'nav gave me a few ideas for this chapter, so I hope you all like them. Also, I know Snape has acted violently toward Hermione on his own accord, but I suppose it is part of the plot … even though that's still under construction! However, I will just stop typing this and get on with the story! Thanks again!

Chapter Three

Black Abyss

If it wasn't enough having to deal with foolish children on a daily basis at work, then having to put up with the school's insufferable know-it-all was definitely a step too far. Of course, Severus couldn't blame the poor girl. _She _never planned to become a witch, let alone get involved with Potter. She was supposed to be intelligent! Surely she had half a brain to leave Potter and his bloody Weasley friend. But of course she wouldn't! She was a Gryffindor – Severus should know they were more loyal than the Hufflepuffs.

Stupid girl. She was lucky he was around to keep her safe! Had it been straight to the Wealsey's, she would have been dead by now. Of course, she was safer here in his own house, sleeping up in his guest bedroom while he sat in his office and planned out more lessons for the coming year. It would be her sixth year, Severus knew. The chit would soon be of age, but Dumbledore had made it clear to him that she was to stay there even when she was rid of The Trace. It was beyond Severus why, though. Miss Granger surely knew more spells than half of the seventh years above her. Why, he was positive she could protect herself just fine! But no – he was forced to watch over her. Wasn't being Dumbledore's spy enough? Clearly that was a no. It didn't help that she didn't even trust him enough to eat a simple meal after the pain he had inflicted upon her. Like he had specifically raised his hand for the task! He supposed it was better than someone like Bellatrix or Lucius. They wouldn't have spared her and brought her somewhere safer than the streets or her own home. Oh yes, it had been hard for him to slash her through the way he did, slam her against a stone wall like he had and break almost every bone in her body. It had been easy to cast the spells, yes, but harder to watch his own pupil suffer, completely at his mercy.

Her screams still echoed in his head.

Severus set down his quill and rubbed his temples in gentle circles, leaning back in his hair. He thought over his day, remembering the fear in her eyes when she was pinned up against his office wall. It had been pure terror, but it had been necessary! It was quite obvious that was the only way he'd manage to keep her quiet while he was working. There was, however, the reading alternative, but it his own form of punishment for knocking over that potion. He glared at the desk before him. That potion had been important for Dumbledore and now it was ruined because of a clumsy school girl obsessed with books. Her punishment had proved to be worse than forcing her to clean out flasks in his private lab. Severus knew very well what to do next time. Perhaps keeping the girl under control wouldn't be as hard as he thought. Keeping children quiet and under his control was, after all, his speciality in the classroom. Students stayed out of his way – he planned to keep it like that for Miss Granger as well.

He retired to his bedroom late that night, exhausted from work and recent events. Sleep never came easy to him, however. He often lay awake for hours, his mind never able to rest completely. Even in sleep he thought about things: classes and the silly things Dumbledore relied on him for; the Dark Lord and when he would hold another meeting; the war and the pathetic plans the Order of the Phoenix had devised, and Lily. Oh sweet, beautiful Lily. Fifteen years she had been gone from this earth, and not a day passed when Severus didn't think about her or wonder how she would have been had she still been alive. Sometimes, he blamed his own mistake for her death. It he had learned to hold his tongue, she could have been his! She would have been safe from any harm! Oh, how different things would have been. Shaking the thoughts from his head before he drove himself to insanity, Severus lay in his bed and tried to focus on falling asleep. The quiet and darkness of his room devoured him and after some time, he finally fell into an uneasy, light sleep and when morning finally came, he felt as though he hadn't slept at all. Severus glanced at the clock on his wall. Ten thirty in the morning. He sighed and then looked away before snapping his head back in a double take. Ten thirty? Oh, half the day had been wasted and who knows what the Granger girl was up to! He almost flew from his bed and showered quickly before magically drying his hair and pulling his normal, black robes on and descending the elaborate staircase into the dining room. He was shocked to hear voices. His heart froze when he thought it might have been Lucius dropping by.

_How stupid_, he thought. _The man is in Azkaban. Damn good of the Ministry, too_. It got tiring when Lucius would suddenly pop into house – literally. There would be a _pop_ or loud _crack_ and sure enough, the man stood behind Severus demanding something of him.

He walked into the dining room, half of him expecting to see another Death Eater interrogating Miss Granger, when all he saw was she sitting at his dining table with a mug full of tea, _talking with his House Elf_. She turned suddenly looked at him with a smile.

"Good morning sir," both she and Tippy said at the same. Severus scowled at the pair of cheery twits and swept over to his own seat.

"Miss Granger," he greeted with a nod. Tippy approached him with his own mug full of straight black coffee before scurrying out into the kitchen.

"You have a lovely elf, sir," the girl commented, stirring her tea. Severus appraised her.

"Oh?" he commented, not caring much for conversation.

"Yes, she's very polite!"

"Of course, Miss Granger, they would have to be, no?" He took a sip from his coffee and set it down with a quiet _thud_. He frowned at her, as if talking to House Elves was a violation against all things normal.

"Of course, sir, but they do know how to have an interesting conversation." Severus cringed at the giggle that followed her words.

"I see you're feeling much better." She glanced up with bright eyes and nodded.

"Oh yes! Well, I'm still a bit sore … I suppose I have you to thank for that!" His eyes narrowed.

"Don't start, Miss Granger." He put a warning into his tone as he leaned back in his seat and watched her carefully.

"I'm only stating the truth," she muttered. Severus rolled his eyes at her cheek.

"I'll have you know," he said, clearing his throat and his tone annoyed. "If it weren't for me, you'd be dead." Severus smirked at her horrified look and added, "_I'm only stating the truth_." He watched her with a satisfied smirk on his face as she struggled to find something to say.

"Well," she said, sitting up straight. "I suppose I do thank you for that, Professor…." He chuckled when she pursed her lips and tried to smile at him.

"You said that yesterday, Miss Granger. I hope I didn't hit your head too hard and caused any memory loss." Severus' smirk grew as she bit her lip and looked at him worriedly.

"You didn't!" she said, her hand flying to her head. "I don't remember you hitting my head!" Severus leaned forward and nodded.

"Exactly." With this, he stood up and walked from the room only to have his hand grabbed and he was forced to turn around.

"Professor! You healed me!" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Who said that?" Oh, how fun it was to mess with her mind!

"Sir! You – you … test me! On anything, please!" He sighed and pulled his hand away and pondered for a moment.

"What don't you know, Miss Granger?"

"I don't know! I could have forgotten all of my education! I won't be able to pass my NEWTs!" His smirk grew.

"Well then, it should be fair for every other student at the school then, should it not?" He waited for her reaction but she kept her wide, scared eyes on him until he finally sighed again and got an idea. He asked, "When you made the Polyjuice Potion in your second year, Miss Granger, how long did it take?"

"How do you know about that, sir?" Severus smirked down at her. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Just a guess, but your memory is obviously fine." He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Why, Miss Granger, I thought you would know better … Have you not memorized the school rules by now as well as your text books?" Hermione glared up at him.

"That was for something important, sir!" she protested.

"I'm sure sneaking into the Slytherin Common Room is certainly important to you, Miss Granger," replied Severus, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Perhaps the next thing you will learn is how to plan much more carefully." Then, he turned and walked back into his office, leaving a stunned Miss Granger behind him.

Sitting at his desk, he smirked to himself. The girl ought to learn to control her emotion better than that; he could read her like an open book without even entering her mind. Of course, he never did it intentionally unless he was suspicious of other's activities. On occasion, he'd use it against his students when they lied about homework, but never more than that. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. If he was to keep Miss Granger safe, then it would prudent for her to learn how to hide her emotions as well as block her mind. The Dark Lord was after her and Potter now, but he would certainly pursue Miss Granger before getting to Potter. If she wanted to help her friend, she would certainly need to keep her emotions and thoughts hidden from him. But teaching such subjects like Legilimency and Occlumency were strictly prohibited at Hogwarts unless directed otherwise. Severus would have to check with Dumbledore before doing so. After all, he had been given a job, and he always did his jobs well.

Severus decided he best get his last lesson of the first week planned out, but when there was a quiet knock at his door, he was forced to stop.

"Enter," he said in his usual cold voice. He turned around to see Miss Granger peek in.

"Sir?"

"What is it?" She stepped inside and closed the door behind it and leaned against it.

"I had a few questions, regarding my parents. It's so silly of me … I had forgotten they were away, and they return in two days." Severus stared at her for a moment. Well, that was certainly a problem.

"Very well, I will contact the Headmaster and have him owl them, alerting them you were taken to the Weasley's as a form as precautions." She nodded.

"Sir, if they would like to contact me….?" Her unfinished question hung in the air until Severus replied slowly.

"Owls are being intercepted, Miss Granger, if you had forgotten. The only contact to the Wizarding World they will have would be through Professor Dumbledore, as his are the only … safe ones." She nodded once more and moved to sit on the couch against the wall.

"What about Harry? And Ron?"

"Safe," said Severus. "I've been told they are at Mr. Weasley's home and will remain there until term begins." He kept his eyes on her for a moment, noticing the worried expression on her face and sighed. There was no use in letting her fuss over things. "Miss Granger, you have no reason to worry. Everything is being taken care of and you are … safe now." He folded his hands in front of him. He did not return the smile he received but knew he had improved her mood.

"Again, thank you," she said quietly. Severus nodded to her and sat back down in his chair. They stayed quiet for a moment, the silence making him feel awkward.

"You may … read, Miss Granger, or whatever you feel like doing. However, you stay in this house and don't … make a mess," he said in a softer but stern voice. Her bushy head snapped up, her eyes bright.

"Oh thank you, sir! I promise I won't!" Severus watched her flee from the room before returning to his work. He worked through his lesson plans diligently throughout the day until there was a sudden burning on his left forearm. Hissing in pain, he pulled his sleeve up and glared at the glowing mark.

"Now what does he want from me?" he growled as he stood up and set his things away before hurrying into the reading room where the girl lay spread out on the floor, books all around her. The stinging increased and worked its way up his arm; the Dark Lord was clearly angry about something.

"Miss Granger," Severus said, trying hard to keep the hiss out of his tone. She must have heard it for she jumped to her feet and straightened out her clothes.

"Yes sir?" she asked, looking fearful that she had done something.

"I must go out for … a while. I won't return for some time. Should you get hungry, Tippy is here to assist you." She nodded.

"Sir, where are you going?"

"To a meeting," said Severus through gritted teeth as he forced his mind from the pain. He turned and walked back into his office and stabbed the tip of his wand to his Dark Mark and felt the familiar cold rush of air as he was enveloped in a dense, dark shroud of black, swirling around him and obscuring his vision until he felt his feet land firmly on the ground. He stood in the Malfoy's drawing room, facing a long, black table made of polished wood with intricate carvings etched into its sides. At the high end, there sat a tall figure with pale skin that glowed in the dark candle light, the flames flickering in his blood red eyes. Around him, four others knelt down around him on knee with bowed heads. Severus, on the other hand, stood straight and tall as he marched toward the Dark Lord, stopping before in the middle of the small circle.

"Ah Severus," hissed the snake-like being. "How nice of you to join us this fine evening!"

"My Lord, why have you summoned me?" Severus asked, his voice unfaltering.

"I have questions about the Mudblood, Granger," replied Voldemort in a high, breathy voice.

"My Lord, I did as you asked." Voldemort chuckled.

"Is she dead, Severus?"

"No, My Lord," Severus admitted at once. "She is alive." Voldemort hissed and brandished his wand, drawing it across his chin in a swift movement as he stepped closer to Severus.

"I requested that you kill her after getting the information on Harry Potter, Severus."

"My Lord, are you quite sure that would have been the smartest thing to do? After all, Potter would be angry … he would surely come after you and ruin the plan you had in mind," replied Severus in a calm, controlled tone. Voldemort let out another hiss and aimed his wand at Severus, who did nothing but stay still, his hand resting at his side.

"You defied me, Severus!" yelled Voldemort. "I expected the Mudblood to be … dead! I am … dissssapointed."

"My Lord-" Severus was cut off with an excruciating pain that ripped its way through his body, riding along his veins, causing every inch of his body to throb painfully. A strangled scream made it way from his slips as he fell to his knees, trying to block the pain as he hung his head. He felt as though his rips were being snapped in half and forced through his skin as someone crushed his skull with their mere hands. Soon, the pain eased off and he knelt before his master, panting gently. No, it hadn't been the first time he had been tortured, but it certainly wasn't common for him. He looked up through his long black hair just in time to meet the end of Voldemort's wand, pointed directly at his arms and shoulders. There was a stabbing pain, as if someone had jabbed a knife into his flesh and ragged it all the way down the length of his arm. He gritted his teeth and merely hissed, and blocked his mind when Voldemort tried to enter it.

"You lied to me, Severus! You said you would do your best to finish the filthy girl!" Another stab. Severus glanced over to see the red moist seeping through his robes sleeve and dripping onto his hand.

"My Lord," Severus said, his voice weak. "My Lord, I assure you she means you no harm!" Voldemort circled around him, the long black robe sweeping the floor and trailing in the blood from Severus' arm, kicking him roughly in the ribs. Severus gasped and the felt the wind blow out of him for several seconds.

"I want her dead, Severus," Voldemort hissed, the sound of it echoing off the walls in the drawing room. "You must kill her." Severus hung his head and nodded slowly, staring at the dark floor beneath him. "Now, get out of my sight!" There was a _crack_ and Severus found himself spinning through the black void until he stumbled into the floor of his office, gripping his ribs and trying to support his numb, bloody arm. He took a few steps and found the door and stepped out, needing to go to his lap, but happened upon a now very wide-eyed Miss Granger before the scene before him faded to black .

~SSHG~

Author's Note: Oooh, cliff hanger! Well, sort of. This chapter was short – much shorter in comparison to the last one – but I wrote it right after that and I wanted to get it up as quickly as possible! So, what's going to happen to poor Severus now? Better yet, is Hermione near her end? Only future chapters will tell! Thanks for reading and please review? It would mean a lot! Thank you! XOXO.


	4. Deafening Silences and Terrifying News

Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews! It means a lot to me and really keeps me inspired! So, yes, shout outs to: Dopplegranger, Severusgrissom, and Kwai Ax'nav! So, I'm sure you're all excited to see how Hermione reacts to poor Severus! I'll get on with Chapter Four now

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter Four 

Deafening Silences and Terrifying News

"_The wind was a torrent of darkness among the ghastly trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon, tossed upon the cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor…._"

~SSHG~

A storm had rolled in shortly after Snape had left to a meeting Hermione could only assume was called by Voldemort. His house was already creepy enough without the flashes of lightning throwing shadows onto the wall, and every deep clap of thunder was too much for Hermione. Every little noise already had her jumping. She curled up with a good book she had found in the depths of a small library that was hidden behind a large, heavy door at the end of a long dark hallway. She discovered it when trying to find a loo to take a shower. The book was so interesting she had almost taken it into the shower with her, but of course remembered her punishment from ruining other things of Snape's and put it back. It was called _Charming a Wand_, its pages lined with steps on how to create your own charms and spells. Hermione planned on searching for more books like it though, before she tried some of it out on her own. The library offered comfort to her - the smell of old books made her feel at home despite the dark walls and cold furniture. It was easy for her to block out the portraits' eyes on her when she was immersed in a good book, and sometimes she forgot she was in the Over-grown Bat's house, but in the Hogwarts Library instead. It was the thunder that ruined her relaxed state. Words on a page weren't enough to block out the sound she dreaded most about summer.

Hermione had grown weary with her reading and her eyes were heavy with sleep. It was late but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep with the storm raging on. She decided a spot of tea would calm her nerves and made her way to the kitchen where Tippy was cleaning the counters until they shined spotless. The tiny elf looked up, her violet eyes wide and bright when she saw it was Hermione. Her long ears flopped over a bit, reminding Hermione of a small dog.

"What would Miss Hermione Granger like? Tippy can get her anything!" Hermione smiled gently.

"Some tea please, Tippy. Two sugars?"

"Of course! Anything, Miss!" The young witch smiled as Tippy bounced around the kitchen, preparing the tea. Meanwhile, Hermione picked up the rag Tippy had been using and finished cleaning the counter for her.

"Oh, no! Miss, that is Tippy's job!" Hermione jumped around and laughed lightly.

"Oh, it's really not a big deal. I clean the counters for my parents all the time at home." Hermione frowned and looked at the ground, trying to shake the sudden feeling of homesickness.

"Is Hermione Granger all right?" Tippy's voice brought Hermione out of her thoughts. She smiled again and nodded, taking the tea that was held out in front of her suddenly.

"Yes, Tippy. I'm fine. And thank you," said Hermione, taking a sip of her tea. "This is lovely." The elf beamed and her ears flopped excitedly.

"Miss Granger is very welcome! Tippy is lucky to have such masters!" Hermione's eyes popped and she shook her head.

"Oh, Tippy, I'm not your master! I'm your friend!" She laughed light heartedly at the surprised look on Tippy's face.

"Friend? Tippy likes having friends!" Hermione smiled and patted Tippy on the head gently.

"I'm very happy to be your friend, Tippy," she said in a happy voice. It was nice to have someone else to talk to other than Snape. In fact, it was nice to have someone to talk to at all. Snape didn't say much unless he was angry at Hermione or answering some of her questions. She wondered if he would be more talkative when he was finished all his work for school. That was mainly the reason he hadn't spoken to her. Then again, Hermione knew the man didn't like her all that much. His insults from school proved that. Hermione never let them get to her, but there was one in particular that had always nagged at her from the back of her head. During her fourth year, Malfoy had thrown a curse at her. She still remembered the painful burning as her two front teeth grew to the size of a beaver's. She and Harry and Ron hadn't meant to get caught, so of course it was Snape who had found them. _I see no difference, _he had said. It was stupid of course – Hermione hadn't expected him to do anything about it, but the comment was completely unnecessary. It had haunted Hermione until this day. She had even looked up spells that could change the appearance of her teeth but found none. She hadn't even been aware of their size before then, either, and now she always worried about what people would think of them. Hermione put it out of her mind – she had bigger things to worry about.

"Tippy must get back to her chores now, Miss!"

"Yes, alright," said Hermione, smiling as the tiny elf moved around her and continued with the kitchen. Hermione took her tea and walked into the reading room. She pulled back the curtains on the tall window, rubbing the silken fabric between her fingers for a moment. Then, she peeked out of the window and into the empty, flooded street. There was a tall tree in Snape's front yard just before a tall, brick fence that seemed to blend into the gloomy sky the higher up it went. It was hard to make out in the dark just how tall it was. The tree loomed overhead, bending and springing back with the force of the wind, threatening to snap off its trunk. The street was empty as the water ran down it, looking like a shallow river. A flash of lightening illuminated the sky and the rest of the neighbourhood, the sound of thunder following it making Hermione grimace. For once, she wished Snape was there. Even if he hated her, at least there was someone there with her. Of course, there was Tippy, but a grown wizard just seemed to make Hermione feel safer, Death Eater or not.

She closed the drapes and let them fall together, swishing around at the floor for a few seconds. She stared at curtains, a strange feeling of sudden fear creeping over her. A sip of tea calmed her nerves, reassuring her that she was on edge only because of the storm outside. As if nodding to a voice whispering to her through the silence, Hermione sat down and finished her tea. The feeling of sleepiness overtook her and she nodded off in the comfy arm chair, her legs curled up beneath her. She dreamt of her parents and escaped to a world where no one was in danger and all was happy, even Snape perhaps….

_Crack_!

Hermione jumped awake, her eyes searching wildly through the darkness of the room. Her hand flew instinctively to her wand and she rose to her feet. Her head swam again. Her injuries still weren't completely healed; any sudden movements made the room revolve. Ignoring the sick dizzy feeling, she slowly walked from the room and peaked around the corner, catching sight of the grandfather clock in a corner that ticked loudly in her ears against the loud silence. _Two thirty-two_. How long had she fallen asleep for? Surely the clock was wrong! Another flash of lightning told Hermione that the storm raged on. A sudden howl of wind ran through the house and the silence that followed sent goose bumps across Hermione's skin. The loudest sound was her own breathing, heavy and deafening in her ears. Her heart thumped in time with the _tick tock, tick tock_ of the clock. Wand outstretched in front of her, Hermione stepped over the threshold and looked down the hallway. A sharp inhale of breath from behind made her whip around. She shrieked at the sight before her.

There he stood, hunched over and breathing heavily, one arm clutching his ribs, the other hanging lifelessly from his side.

"Professor!" Hermione yelled, lighting her wand to see him better. The white cuffs under his black robes were stained with blood as were his pale hands. His face was stark white, glowing in the soft light resonating from the tip of her wand. Hermione stood for a moment, quite shocked and not sure what to do. Snape's slight form trembled from what Hermione knew was pain. He teetered on the spot and finally fell against the wall. Gasping, Hermione rushed forward and kneeled beside him, her hands flying over him, not sure what to do.

"Help!" she called out to the silence and immediately felt stupid. There was no one there but Tippy.

_Tippy._

"Tippy!" Hermione yelled. "Tippy, come quick please!" A sudden swishing sound alerted Hermione that the elf had materialized beside her.

"Yes, Miss?" the elf squeaked.

"Professor Snape has been hurt, and I'm – I'm not sure where I can help him in this house."

"His private potions lab, Miss!" Tipp glanced down at Snape, her large purple eyes bulging as she played nervously with the hem of her pillow case.

"Yes, of course! Thank you!" Tippy nodded and offered to help as Hermione levitated Snape down the hallway and past the sleeping portraits hanging on the wall.

"My son!" croaked a soft voice. It sounded as though it belonged to a woman. Hermione glanced over and caught the eyes of Snape's mother. "What has happened to him?"

"He's hurt, madam," she said quietly. "He will be fine."

"You help him, Miss," demanded Mrs. Snape.

"Of course," Hermione whispered, feeling somewhat insulted. She didn't much care for Snape, but she wouldn't let him suffer like that, especially if he was saving her life….

The lab was as dark as any other room, but Tippy quickly cast a spell and the candles around the walls were lit with flickering flames. Hermione levitated Snape over to the long counter she had sat on only the day before and lay him down gently. His breathing came in short, shallow puffs and his eyes finally fluttered open.

"Professor?" Hermione whispered. His onyx eyes looked around frantically at first until they rested on her face. "Professor, don't move," she instructed and he seemed as though he had no choice as she undid his black robes with shaking hands. It was completely strange and at the same time necessary. She pulled his cloak off and let it fall in a heap on the floor, revealing his black, form-fitting robes. She took the upper one and pulled it from his torso. Underneath he wore a plain white dress shirt, the sleeve of his injured arm soaked through with blood. Her stomach churned at the sight and smell of it, but she had no choice but to grit her teeth and bear it.

"I hope you have plenty more of these shirts," she murmured apologetically as she ripped the sleeve of his shirt open, gasping at the deep wound. She could swear it was half-way to the bone. What had Snape done to be harmed like this? Surely nothing worth such torture!

Hermione's own breathing matched Snape's as she stared down at the gash and the blood that slowly trickled down his arm. She swallowed hard and looked around. Tippy stood in the door way, cowering at the sight.

"You can go if you like," said Hermione softly. Tipp shook her large head.

"No, Tippy must stay with her friend, in case Miss Hermione Granger needs any assistance!"

"Thank you," said Hermione, now eyeing the cupboard where Snape had got her potion from the other day. Waving her wand, Hermione said clearly, "_Accio_ Essence of Dittany." A small bottle of brown-coloured liquid burst forth from the cupboard and soared through the air toward Hermione. She grabbed it and summoned an eye-dropper. Dipping it into the potion, she began applying to Snape's arm. A soft hiss escaped his lips and she saw him close his eyes tightly.

"It might sting a little," she said, her voice shaking. She watched with relief as his wound started healing instantly, the flesh coming together. There was a light pink scar forming in a cursive line down his arm. Panting slightly, Snape opened his eyes and looked up at her. She had her lips pressed firmly in a line as she finished healing his arm.

"Where else, sir?" she asked.

"Ribs," he muttered, his voice hoarse. It sounded strange to Hermione – weak. She didn't react to it though, knowing Snape would never forgive her if she pointed out that he could sound like those "sentimental children forever whining about how bitterly unfair their lives had been", because he did in fact sound like a young man – though that he was – who was capable of feeling something other than anger. She had always thought of him as someone who would never show pain. But this, this was something entirely different to her. It was obvious that Snape held up a sort of shield. It was as if he was afraid to feel anything but fury.

How very wrong she was. _She_ didn't know about this past.

Hermione nodded and moved to apply a bit of pressure. "Tell me where," she said in a soft voice, pressing the palm of her hand down. A low grunt came from his lips.

"Foolish girl," he growled, scrunching his eyes and hissing again in pain.

"There," said Hermione, taking her hands off. "This will hurt," she warned and whispered, "_Epsikey_!"

"Ahh!" Snape yelled out loud and glared at her through half-open eyes.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, noting the anger on his face. He clearly did not like being seen in such a weak state. She braced herself for more insults now to make up for it. He stayed silent and a few moments passed until he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"Professor, I need to wrap your arm…." Hermione trailed off and conjured a plain white cloth which she easily made into a makeshift cast and sling for him. Then she went and got the same potion he had given her for pain and made him drink it ("I do not bloody need that!" Snape had snapped). It took some persuasion and Hermione figured it was because she was "the most annoying, insufferable and persistent twit of the whole bloody student body".

"You should rest, Professor," said Hermione as she put everything away in its proper place. She had misplaced one thing by accident and earned a temper-mental snap from her Potions Master. Tippy had then rushed forward and made sure Hermione knew where the empty vials of potions went. Hermione was much more aware of where things went after that.

"Miss Granger, if you have not noticed by now, I am lying on a table, not running around foolishly. Of course I'm resting!" Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I mean go to sleep, sir," she said softly. Snape looked over and glared at her.

"I was planning on it, Miss Granger, no need to tell me how to live." Hermione sighed and nodded as she washed her hands of _his_ blood. _He_ had tried to kill _her_ before and now _he_ couldn't even thank _her_ for saving _his_ life? It was funny how his mind worked.

"Alright then," she said and started fiddling with her hands. "Do you need anything?"

"Tippy can get Master Snape some nice hot tea, she can!" Hermione glanced at Tippy and then at Snape who shook his head.

"Tippy, I think Professor Snape just needs rest," said Hermione, looking pointedly at Snape whose glare intensified with a fire that could have burned Hermione had it been possible.

"Both of you, get out!" he snapped, standing up now. Tippy scurried off down the hallway, but Hermione stayed in place, staring at him.

"What did you do, Professor?" she asked in a small voice.

"That's none of your concern, is it, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, inclining his head towards her. He raised an eyebrow, daring her to speak. "I don't think it would do well for anyone if you knew … _everything_." His lips curled up into his usual sneer. Hermione looked down and folded her arms behind her back.

"Of course, sir," she whispered. "Good night, sir," she said. She didn't look at him as she walked from the room and to the bedroom she was currently sleeping in. Angrily, she punched the fluffy pillows until her arms got tired. She collapsed in a fit of tears and curled up into a ball, wishing the mattress would eat her up and hide her away from the world. From him. The man had no heart. She was on the verge of being murdered and all he could do was insult her. The least he could do was just not talk to her.

Despite the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder, Hermione fell asleep easily. At least the tears had stopped somewhere in between her dreams and when she woke up the following morning. She prepared herself for the day and quietly walked downstairs, praying that he would still be asleep, but her heart fell when the clock in the hallway told her it was half past twelve. With a yawn, she made her way into the kitchen. Snape was nowhere to be seen, so she helped herself to an apple from his kitchen. When she finished it, she walked to the library that she had found the day before, picking up the same book and laying down on a couch. She only had two chapters left, anyway, so why not finish them? She started reading and soon everything surrounding her melted away into the walls, her eyes focused on the words.

Someone clearing their throat front the doorway was what made her jump. She looked up and a feeling of dread filled her entire being as her eyes landed on Snape himself, leaning casually against the door way. The intense gaze he gave her, however, made her heart leap and her stomach flip, contradicting with her other feelings in a horrible, frightening way.

"Professor?" she squeaked.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," the tall man drawled, smirking at her. "I see you decided to wake up." Hermione could only stare at him for a moment before nodding slowly. She slowly closed the book that lay in her lap and sat up straight.

"Yes sir," said Hermione quietly. "I'm sorry, sir…."

"I also see that when I am not here, you search my house for a secret library, hmm?" Hermione looked around.

"It's not so secret sir," she said cheekily. His gaze darkened and she added in hast, "but if I'm not allowed in here…." Snape smirked again.

"I have no problem with you being in here, Miss Granger, however, I would prefer it if you did not barge into rooms," he said in a firm voice.

"Of course sir, it – it won't happen again," replied Hermione.

"Let's see to it that it doesn't." Snape moved and sat down in the arm chair across from Hermione. She was glad to see that he had kept his sling on. At least he knew how to listen for his own benefit.

"Sir," she said, gesturing to his arm. "How … did that happen? Where did you go last night?" _Why? What did you do to get punished? I thought the Dark Lord favoured you? _She held her tongue and stopped asking questions before he got too annoyed.

"Miss Granger…." Snape stopped and then frowned at her. "The Dark Lord called a meeting, Miss Granger. I suppose it would be prudent to tell you what about," he said.

"Professor, why do you say that?" Snape fixed her with a look that expressed as much as his next words.

"The Dark Lord wants me to kill you." Hermione felt her body go cold as ice, like one of the ghosts at Hogwarts had flipped her inside out. Her face drained of all colour as she looked at Snape with wide eyes as smirk crossed his face. He stood up and she had an urge to run, but something held her to the couch.

~SSHG~

Author's Note: Mwahahaha! I'm sorry, I know I'm evil; I should be the new Voldemort. Oh well, at least you have something to look forward to! I will update as soon as I can! Review? It would mean a lot! Thank you for reading! XOXO.


	5. Misunderstandings

Author's Note: So thank you to Angel67Demon and severusgrissom for reviewing Chapter Four! However, as a response to Angel67Demon, I know I PMed you, but just so everyone else knows, my timing is fine. See, in the books, Hermione's birthday is 19 September, 1979, making her a year older than Harry. Therefore, she was eleven when she started at Hogwarts, but turned twelve shortly after her first day. So, in her sixth year, she would be seventeen shortly after starting the year. This would make her of age, thus my timing is correct. BUT, I thank Angel67Demon for pointing that out, because it made me double check in case I had made a mistake, but I checked a few sites, and I know everything is fine now. But still, thank you!

IMPORTANT: I'm starting school in about two weeks, so I'm going to tell you this: I PROMISE TO UPDATE EVERY FRIDAY OR SATURDAY, but if something comes up, I WILL UPDATE WITH AN ATHOR'S NOTE! Lol, with that out of the way, I give you Chapter Five.

Chapter Five

Misunderstandings

"_Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear._"

It was a mystery to Hermione why she didn't get up and run for it. Snape stood over her like a looming shadow from one of her childhood nightmares, threatening to suck her up. Fear flooded through her and she wondered if he was half Dementor. Of course, the more logical side of her reminded her that was impossible. If anything, he was just intimidating her more now. _Of course he is, he's about to murder me so he doesn't get killed_! Her mind was reeling, screaming at her to get up and make for the Weasley's front door. Or anyone's front door, just as long as it wasn't Snape's. But all she could do was stare at him with wide, horrified eyes. In her peripheral field of vision, she saw his finger move. That was all it took for her to start screamed and running out of the room, her head still throbbing. She ran into a dark room and waved away a cob web with another shriek and looked around. There was nothing in front of her but a vast, open darkness that rendered her helpless, should anything lurk in its depths. Hermione moved around blindly with her arms outstretched in front of her, oddly resembling a zombie, trying to see if there was anything blocking her path. She felt against the walls for a window, awaiting that the silken fabric to brush against her hands and save her. She could climb through the window-

"Now stop right there, Miss Granger." The cold, venomous drawl came from the doorway. _No_! Hermione thought, _the door! I forgot to close the door! _She paused with her hand flat against the wall, the one wrapped in cloth searching for her wand when she remembered, with a wave of dread and panic hitting her hard in the chest, she had left it on the side table in the library. This wasn't like her! She brought her wand everywhere she went, even if it was just to get butter for her mother at the grocer, and now she was leaving it around Snape's house when he was about to murder her!

"Why would a young Gryffindor witch like you run from something like that? Have you not been nearly killed numerous times while hanging around with _Potter_?" He sneered the name as if it were a swear word. "Or is that all for show, Miss Granger? Just so you can get your fifteen minutes of fame with the boy? Now do you show your true loyalty? You stand your guard in other deathly situations and among plenty other dangerous wizards, but now, you cannot even face-" here she heard the door slam shut and the lock _click_. Snape stepped closer to her – she didn't need to see his dark form to know that. The quiet _thud_ of his boots echoed through her mind, bouncing off her brain's cavernous walls. "-your Potions Master." He stood behind her now. She felt the tip of his wand press into the side of her neck and twist painfully. She shut her eyes tight and waited to hear the words, feel the jet of green light rip its way through her body before she felt nothing and fell into whatever lay beyond.

It never came. Instead, she felt herself being pulled roughly around to face him. She opened her eyes and stared at his chest, trying to stop the tremors that rocked her body.

"Pity, Miss Granger, I thought you knew everything. Clearly, you do not. Don't you agree that it would be-" he paused for dramatic effect, "-_ideal_ for you to fight?" Hermione stared at the black buttons running down his robes. She stayed silent, for fear that if she said anything, it would be her last words.

"_I asked you question_," whispered Snape in a threatening tone. Hermione didn't dare look up at him as she nodded and replied, "Yes sir, it would be ideal for me to fight."

"But?" pressed Snape.

"But you're a teacher," was the only response Hermione could afford, because she knew he would retort with some undermining snipe about how she was clearly not as bright as anyone thought if she told him she had forgotten her wand _again_. Besides that fact, she really didn't know why she didn't fight with something else. _There is nothing else_, part of her mind told her, _you're stuck in this room with him, and now he's got a hold of you. He can do whatever he wants. You've nowhere to go_.

"Surely you can come up with something better than that, hmm?" Snape murmured, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm sure if Professor Flitwick tried to kill you, you wouldn't be standing here with his wand stuck to your neck." Hermione shivered and shook her head violently, her brown curls bouncing about.

"No, sir," she managed. With a deep breath, she summoned her courage and added, "Because unlike you, other Professors wouldn't try to kill their students." Hermione looked up at Snape with a glare.

"Very good, Miss Granger," Snape sneered and a dark chuckle followed his words. "How observant of you, yes, of course, I should have known that _you_ would have figured that out by now. However, it's not so observant, after all as I have told you before that I have no wish or aspiration to kill you, haven't I, you cheeky witch? Allow me to write it down next time and slip it inside one of your books so you remember it." Hermione stared dumbfounded at Snape.

"Then why-?"

"Why did I chase after you? Yes, very good question, indeed, but perhaps if you had remained seated in my library, then there would have been no need for this. You see, Miss Granger, people have ways of explaining themselves." Hermione still stood in his grasp, her body still trembling but she felt more relaxed. Her professor was not about to kill her – at least, not now. Not until he had the wish to do so. In Hermione's mind, she knew that could be very soon. Snape was clearly a double agent for Voldemort, and what was to stop him from killing her? _The Order_! The tiny voice in her head was enough to make Hermione realize that it would be entirely stupid on his part if he were to murder her. The Order would surely find out, and he would be sent to Azkaban. No, she had to think like Snape. She had to think like a double agent – consider both sides of the story. If only she knew more information on what he did as a Death Eater, then she would have a better idea of what his moves would be like in his little game of Wizards' Chess.

"Then explain yourself," whispered Hermione, looking down at the ground. "Sir," she added quickly. Snape let go of her and took a step back.

"The Dark Lord," he started, "wants you dead, Miss Granger. He … feels it would be easier to kill Potter. However, I told him I believed it would prove more difficult. I'm sure Potter would be very angry with me if I did in fact take your life, yes?" Hermione looked up and glared at him.

"He's not such a big fan of you as it is, Professor," she said quietly. Snape cocked an eyebrow and went on. He paced around in front of her, hands folded behind his back. He occasionally addressed her with her eyes and Hermione found herself wishing he wouldn't look at her.

"He disagreed, so naturally, I was punished." He stopped and turned sharply to look at her. "I sent the Headmaster an owl last night, Miss Granger, after you had so meticulously healed me, requesting that you stay at Hogwarts until term begins." Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Snape held up a pale hand to stop her.

"You will be safer there. The Dark Lord has made appearances on my doorstep in the past, Miss Granger. Do you think it wise that you be here when he does?" Hermione shook her head.

"No, sir, but I thought you were to keep me safe?" Despite her dislike for the man, Hermione had grown somewhat strangely attached to his home, however un-homey it was. Unlike her own and her friends' houses, it was filled with books and interesting artefacts she had never seen before. His collection of drafts and potions was impressive, though she had never expected less of him. It was clear she had developed a liking to the shadowy hallways and extravagant rugs. She might even allow herself to say she had warmed up to Snape, even though they barely talked unless they were discussing important matters. _No, you're just used to it by now, that's _all, she thought bolshily.

"The owl I received from Professor Dumbledore stated that I was to accompany you," said Snape. Hermione heard him step closer and felt something brush against her upper back. His touch was gentle, the hand on the small of her back hard to feel through her sweater. Was it even his hand? Maybe she had back up into a curtain without noticing it. A small push toward told her it was his hand and his words make her feel happier. Why they did, Hermione didn't know.

"Oh," she said, trying to sound indifferent. Why was she so happy about this? _He's kept you this safe, hasn't he_? Of course, she was happier with the prospect that she would continue to be safe. Snape was a Death Eater, but something told Hermione he wasn't so bad. He was insulting and intimidating, yes, but not completely evil.

"Yes, don't be too happy," he sneered and Hermione had to try not to smile. "I want this as much as you do, Miss Granger, so throw a party while you still can." She glanced up at him in the new light of the hallway and saw the sarcasm etched into his features.

"Well, thank you, sir," she said. Snape nodded and continued down the hallway.

"We leave tomorrow," he called over his shoulder before disappearing into his office. Hermione stood awkwardly in the hallway and looked around. Well, that was that, she supposed. She would start packing her things later that night. New school robes were in order – she had outgrown her old ones in more ways than just height. The change was barely noticeable, though. Her hair was still as bushy as ever and her teeth – oh her teeth – remained the same size. With dentists for parents, she knew there was no hope for them changing in size. Her mother and father had often reminded her that people didn't care about teeth, only personality. Their words had little effect on Hermione; she still obsessed over what people thought of them the first time they met her. Shaking her head, she turned around and walked back to the library.

"He's smart, my son," a sudden voice said. Hermione jumped and looked to the portrait of Mrs. Snape. She had silky black hair pulled back into an elaborate up-do, some of it hanging down in loose waves at her shoulders. Her eyes were the same black caverns as Snape's, her skin emitting a pale glow in the dim candlelight. She regarded Hermione with a pointed stare, holding a small, pointed nose up in the air. Snape obviously didn't get much of his looks from his mother.

"Yes of course," said Hermione, feeling once again intimidated by a Snape.

"Then you would do well to listen to him, Miss," said Mrs. Snape.

"Yes of course," repeated Hermione, not sure what to say. "He's – he's saved my life a few times."

"Thank you for saving his," the older witch replied in a velvety voice.

"Oh, it's no problem," Hermione said, a blush creeping into her cheeks. "He wasn't so badly hurt, madam. He was far, erm, he was far from dying…."

"You're his student, are you not?" Hermione nodded.

"Yes," she said. Mrs. Snape offered a small smile.

"Are you bright?"

"I like to think so," said Hermione, blushing again. "I do enjoy learning…." The woman in the portrait laughed.

"It's better to know yourself, than to be modest," she said. "Tell me dear, what is your name?"

"Hermione Granger, madam," replied Hermione. Mrs. Snape smiled softly.

"Lovely name, as well."

"Thank you," said Hermione.

"You should go, I think. Severus does not like to be kept waiting, and you leave tomorrow, I hear. A mother would tell you to pack well, but alas, I am not your mother. I am, however, the eyes and ears of this house, and I know you are not safe, Miss Granger. It is better to get to Hogwarts as fast as possible." Hermione nodded.

"Do you know much about what's going on?" she asked.

"Oh I know more than that, my child," Mrs. Snape said mysteriously. "It's better to leave details to Severus, however. He knows best." Hermione nodded and kept her questions to herself. She wanted to know more about why Voldemort wanted to kill her, but she knew there wasn't much more to it than the fact that he wanted Harry. She and Ron seemed like the only things blocking his way now.

"Then I must go, Mrs. Snape," said Hermione. She smiled at the portrait who returned her pleasantry.

"I bid you farewell and good luck, Miss Granger. And … trust him." With that, she turned around and left her portrait, leaving behind a green armchair that looked remarkably like the one in Snape's reading room. Hermione nodded to no one and returned to the library. She knew she should be packing, but she only needed a few things. The rest was up to Diagon Alley.

Sighing, Hermione sunk back into the couch and rested her head on a cushion. Tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow, she would be back at Hogwarts.

~SSHG~

Author's Note: So I didn't like that chapter as much as the other ones, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting too long! Also, like I said, I won't be updating until every Friday or Saturday. I start school soon, so I'm just getting everything ready! I might give you the odd double post, though. Mawahahaha! It depends how I feel that week. And I promise that if I won't be able to update, I will leave an Author's Note. So, thanks for reading! Not so much of a cliff hanger, but Hermione had experience some confusion about Snape. Hmmm…. I will add more of his mother in, too. I think she could add interesting twists to this story. Anyway, thanks for reviewing last time! If you reviewed again … I'd love you forever! Alright, I'll stop rambling now…. Bye!


	6. Author's Note: Watson, We Have a Problem

Author's Note: I apologize, but my friend, who is basically my beta, is away right now so she was unable to edit my chapter. I didn't want to upload it without someone reading it first. However, I shall update it when she gets back, which should be Wednesday! Thank you for your patience! It's really appreciated! XOXO. Also, thank you to those who reviewed, but I'm writing this and I can't remember your usernames offhand … shout outs in the chapter! :)


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